


Why Stay?

by wafflesandkruge



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, i've been in love with you for 10 years thanks for noticing asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:07:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23680534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflesandkruge/pseuds/wafflesandkruge
Summary: After graduation, Hajime moved to Argentina with Oikawa because...maybe, just maybe, his friend would finally understand. But months go by, and it's not until Oikawa decides to crash at his place again due to a drunken pity party that they finally talk about what's between them.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 4
Kudos: 84





	Why Stay?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kamistrife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamistrife/gifts).



> Hello y'all! I've never...published any hq writing before so please be kind ahaha. This is for @kamistrife, thanks again!

Hajime had barely closed the front door behind him when his phone started buzzing. He sighed and gazed longingly at the couch. His job as an interpreter often had him working odd hours to accommodate different time zones, and there was nothing more he wanted in that moment than to take a nap. He swore to god, if it was Oikawa calling him for the seventh time asking to borrow toilet paper–

He pulled out his phone and was surprised to see it was one of Oikawa’s teammates. They didn’t call him much unless it was about– a sick feeling started growing in the pit of his stomach. He answered the call.

“Is he okay?” he demanded in Spanish.

“What?” Antonio’s tone was taken aback. In the background, loud music and raucous laughter could be heard. “Oikawa? He’s fine. Just–”

“Iwa-chan!” a familiar voice screeched into the phone. “Did you buy the puppies I asked you to?!”

Hajime took a deep breath and counted to five. He could do this. He could handle drunk Oikawa. He didn’t desperately need sleep. “Oikawa, where are you right now?”

“Where? Uh, Antonio’s place. Where are we, Antonio?” he shouted in Japanese. There was a loud shuffle and scuff. Thankfully, Antonio had grabbed the phone.

“Uh...yeah. I think he’s cursing me in Japanese right now, it’s actually kind of scary. We’re having a small party and I think he had a few too many. Can you pick him up? I would send him home in a taxi but he’s not speaking Spanish right now for some reason.”

Hajime briefly considered just leaving Oikawa to fend for himself as a lesson. But only briefly. He wouldn’t want to inflict that upon poor Antonio, who had been nothing but nice to him since the day they met. “I’m on it. What’s your address?”

Antonio rattled it off and Hajime was in a taxi not five minutes later. 

Throughout the ride, he regularly pinched himself to keep the gentle jolting of the car from lulling him to sleep. Outside, San Juan was still very much awake and it passed by in vibrant flashes of light, dancing, and music. Hajime had always thought the city suited Oikawa a little too much, and tonight would be no exception. 

Antonio lived in one of the nicer parts of the city where most homes had high walls around them to deter curious passersby. Probably a necessity when they were considered local celebrities. Hajime studied each house the taxi drove past, wondering why Oikawa hadn’t chosen to live in a house like those. Their apartments were decent, but much worse than what Oikawa could afford with his salary. Hajime had lost count of the times the two of them had stepped out of the building lobby, only to be mobbed with fans demanding pictures and autographs. If Hajime’s finances weren’t so tight, he’d consider moving out here too, if only to finally get some peace and quiet. 

It was easy to spot which house was Antonio’s. People spilled freely onto the street from the front gate, laughing and dancing. For a “small party,” it was still more than Hajime and his tired brain could put up with at the moment. He asked the driver to wait, then got out of the car and steeled himself. He could do this. 

The first person he recognized was Hector, another of Oikawa’s roommates. He was from Madrid, which meant half the time Hajime couldn’t interpret his Spanish. Especially not when he was slurring his words together as he wrapped Hajime in a big hug and kissed both his cheeks. “Haji! Missed you!”

“Missed you too,” Hajime said as he tried to push the frankly massive man back so he could breathe. “Do you know where Oikawa is?”

“Tooru? Inside, maybe. Stay! Have fun with us!”

Hajime laughed and shook his head. “Not tonight. I’m just here to drag Oikawa’s drunk ass home.”

“Ah, makes sense.”

At that moment, someone pulled at Hector, so they hastily bid their goodbyes. Hajime walked up the open front door, wondering how he was going to find Oikawa in the crowd of people. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wonder long. 

“IWA-CHAN!” A familiar weight crashed into him and he barely avoided falling backwards. “ANTONIO SAID YOU WERE COMING BUT I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!”

Hajime patted his friend’s shoulder awkwardly. Oikawa’s hair was askew and his face flushed. The joggers he’d seen Oikawa leave in this morning had been replaced by jeans and a t-shirt which did nothing to hide the lean muscles of his arms as he wrapped them around Hajime’s chest. 

“Sorry about this,” Antonio apologized as he emerged from behind Oikawa. “I turned my back for one second and he somehow found the top-shelf stuff I usually keep hidden.”

Hajime ducked his head. “Sorry for his behavior. I’ll drag him home and make sure he’s okay.”

Antonio waved his apology away. “Don’t worry about it. He’s too tough on himself already. Give me a call when he’s sobered up, okay?”

Hajime nodded and continued apologizing as he dragged Oikawa from the house and into the waiting car.

* * *

“Come on,” Hajime huffed as he bodily dragged Oikawa towards his apartment door. “Where are your keys?”

“I don’t know,” Oikawa whined, dragging out the last syllable. “You’d really leave me drunk and alone in my apartment? What if someone takes advantage of me?”

“Who would hate themselves that much?” he grumbled as he unlocked the door to his own apartment. He’d thought the night would come down to this. Luckily, he’d gotten used to keeping extra blankets and pillows in a closet. He adjusted Oikawa’s arm that was slung over his shoulders before stepping inside.

He dumped Oikawa unceremoniously on the worn couch. No doubt he’d wake up sore, but he deserved it this time. Oikawa made a noise of protest and chucked a pillow at him. He missed by five feet. Hajime gave him an unimpressed look and headed off to the kitchen. He still hadn’t had dinner, and no doubt Oikawa needed something.

He opened his fridge and sighed. Leftovers it was. He took out the container and popped it into the microwave, then went to fill up a glass of water for Oikawa. He’d become so used to Oikawa’s nights out that this had almost become routine to him– dragging his drunk ass back to his place, giving him water and blankets, having him hog the shower–

“Iwa?”

“Yeah?” He shut off the tap and moved over to the microwave. Oikawa probably needed something solid in his stomach too. He reached up and pulled a packet of instant ramen from a cabinet. 

“Why did you stay with me?”

Hajime froze, almost dropping a pot on his toes. He tried to keep his voice steady, praying Oikawa wasn’t asking what he thought he was. “What?”

Oikawa’s voice was quiet. Pained, even. “Why didn’t you leave? Why come to Argentina because I was throwing myself a pity party for not going pro before Kageyama?”

Hajime twisted the faucet and started filling the pot. The rush of water gave him time to think, to piece together an answer that would throw Oikawa off. 

“Because we’re best friends, dumbass. We’ve been together since we were kids.” Even he himself could hear the feebleness of his words. He slammed the pot down on the stove a little too loudly. 

“Shoyo and Tobio-chan are best friends, but you don’t see Tobio-chan in Brazil.” The kitchen was unbearably hot and stuffy as Hajime switched on the stove. He shoved open a window, but the muggy night air didn’t do anything to cool him down. He glanced out the kitchen’s sliding doors. Oikawa had switched on the tv, but the volume was muted. He was swaddled in blankets and curled into a little ball, eyes staring but not seeing. His next words were quiet. “I wish you left.”

Hajime scowled, panic gone. Oikawa always  _ was _ an ass when he got drunk. He snatched the glass of water off the counter and brought it out to the living room, making sure to set the glass of water on the coffee table instead of “accidentally” tripping and spilling it on Oikawa’s face. His friend didn’t even seem to notice him, his eyes still glued to the silent tv program. 

“You were the one leaving. Why did you want me to leave?”  _ And do you still want me gone? _ Hajime’s last question died in his throat. He stared at his best friend of almost twenty years, silently begging for an answer

Oikawa was uncharacteristically quiet for once. Minutes ticked by on Hajime’s Godzilla clock he’d brought from Japan. Finally, Oikawa spoke. “I wanted to get over things,” he said, voice hollow. “Nationals. Kageyama.”

Hajime sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. This whole situation was going to give him grey hairs. “That’s it? I don’t see why you’d need me to leave for you to get–”

“You. I needed to get over you.” This time, his voice was barely more than a whisper. Hajime’s head snapped up. Oikawa’s face was pale, the flush of alcohol gone. He stared back at Hajime, his eyes trying to convey something Hajime couldn’t quite understand. 

He blinked uncomprehendingly. “Me?”

“Yeah. You.”

Did Oikawa– No, that couldn’t be. Hajime was sure this was all some huge misunderstanding, the universe making him the butt of the joke once again. Was he always bound to have his heart broken by Oikawa?

“I don’t- I don’t understand–”

“Of course you don’t,” Oikawa snarled. His timidness evaporated as he kicked off his blankets. “You’re Iwaizumi Hajime, Mr. Gruff with a heart of gold who gives anyone and everyone a moment of his time, but is too dense to notice that his ‘best friend,’” he spat mockingly while making air quotes with his fingers, “has been in love with him for the past ten years!”

They stared at each other in complete silence. Oikawa’s chest was heaving, his eyes wet. Hajime couldn’t breathe. His mind was blank. He took a step forward, extended an arm, trying to–

“No. Get out, Iwa,” Oikawa whispered. He seemed to visibly wilt as he curled up on the couch and pulled the blanket over his head. Hajime reminded himself to breathe as he stared at the tips of Oikawa’s dumb hair that peeked out from the edge of the blanket.  _ This idiot-  _

He lowered himself onto the side of the couch near Oikawa’s feet. The other man instantly kicked him. “I said, get out.”

Hajime ignored him and focused very hard on getting his next words right. “I stayed because I thought maybe...after ten years, you’d finally notice me.”

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but he felt...lighter somehow as the burden of the secret he’d been carrying for almost half his life was lifted. There was rustling from the other side of the couch as Oikawa sat up suddenly. “Say that again.”

Hajime scowled. “You heard me. You’re a dumbass for not figuring it out earlier. God, I thought I was so  _ obvious _ and you were just being nice-”

“You...like me?” Hajime’s heart twisted as he looked at his best friend. Oikawa’s eyes were childishly wide, his glasses askew and hair wild. How could someone be so smart yet so oblivious?

“Somehow. Now–”

Oikawa was suddenly inches from his face. “Say it again,” he demanded.

“Being drunk doesn’t make you deaf,” Hajime sighed. “I...like you. There. Is that good enough?”

A blinding smile lit up Oikawa’s face. He leaned forward until they were breath to breath. Hajime’s breath hitched as he looked into Oikawa’s brown eyes. “Then can you...make me a bowl of ramen?”

He leaned back laughing. Hajime chucked a pillow at him.  _ Stupid idiot.  _ “Fine. I’m spitting in it though, you can count on that.”

Oikawa got comfortable on the couch and Hajime walked back to the kitchen, a little unsteady. It seemed strange that everything looked exactly the same even though everything had changed. The water he’d left on the stove was boiling away. He dumped in the ramen and chopped some green onions, the way Oikawa liked it. 

When he got back to the living room with the steaming bowl of noodles, Oikawa was already passed out on the couch. He sighed. Did Oikawa think Hajime was his mother or something? But still, he removed Oikawa’s glasses and made sure he had enough blankets. 

After a quick shower (in which there was much overthinking and internal screaming), Hajime dragged out a spare futon to the living room and got under the covers. Just to make sure Oikawa didn’t die overnight, he told himself.

* * *

Tooru woke up with a splitting headache and a sore neck. He didn’t see what he’d done so wrong to deserve these inconveniences. But he supposed it was worth it when he turned his head and found Iwaizumi asleep on a futon nearby. Once again, he’d stayed. 

**Author's Note:**

> If y'all want more hq from me please let me know!


End file.
